Meanwhile, fear shifted into obsession. Amateur hunters loaded trucks, scouring back roads without legal permission, hoping for glory. Others followed with cameras, live-streaming shaky footage, hunting likes, instead of the lion. Sahara eluded all. She stayed just ahead, her path precise, her instincts guiding her steadily back toward the zoo.
Tom finally forced a meeting with the director. “You don’t understand—she’s trying to come back. She’s not hunting, she’s homing.” The director waved him off. “We can’t gamble lives on your sentiment.” Tom slammed the table. “It’s not sentiment—it’s fact. If you shoot her, you’re killing the bond that might save her and Nyla.”